


To’oborni

by Lunarium



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Sigrun takes a hit meant for Tuuri. Out of guilt, Tuuri helps to take care of the injured captain, who is not as angry about being bed-bound as Tuuri may think.





	

Oh, was he a sneaky bastard! 

Sigrun had only caught glimpse of him at the very last possible second—a flicker in the shadows, a long tail slithering on the wall, long sharp teeth, many eyes, all poised on one of her crew: the most vulnerable of her crew, her—

Blood pounded in her ears as a scream filled the air. The troll thrust out from his hiding place, revealing a wide mocking sneer on its once-human face. Tuuri had given a start and fell on her knees, paralyzed in fear, and all she could do was scream and scream, her innocent eyes wide open as the jaws of the troll swung open and made for her, the sharp jagged teeth dripping with poison, surefire death contained within—

Sigrun’s blade came in a flurry of red and silver, but it was not enough to slow it down. She threw herself before Tuuri, her arms wrapped around the shaking form, and pulled her under her, just as the sharp edges came down. As the teeth sunk into her, the pain shot straight to her brain like bolts of iron-hot, blinding white, lightening-struck. 

But Tuuri was unscathed, if shaken, and that was all right. 

A blur of shapes in white came into view drawing near quickly, and Sigrun pushed Tuuri towards them, her lips forming out words hurling out from her lungs, hurried, before rolling out of the way herself before the next strike. Reproducing her blade, it collided with the snout of the troll, nicking it right above the lip. With a snarl it went for her shoulder—the same side as her injured arm. 

Something was shouted towards her, something lost in the flurry of pain as incredible as anything in her life, but Sigrun shouted back a reply even as her brain rattled inside her skull from the next impact. 

“Is she safe! Is Tuuri safe?” 

“I’m okay! Sigrun! Get back!” 

Sigrun gave them a blood-stained grin. In that moment the troll geared for an attack, and she whirled around, blade at the ready, but from the old injury on her arm, her elbow suddenly seized, and in that moment’s delay, the troll was able to clamp its wide mouth over her shoulder chest. Vaguely she was aware of being lifted off the ground, wind swishing past below her feet and over her head. The whistling sound may have been the wind itself as she went flying at top speed, or Tuuri’s own screams lost in the commotion. 

All Sigrun was aware of the defeat, and heading straight towards the wall of a tall old building she became aware of only one second before the impact.

*

Her weeping woke up Lalli. She did mean to. She had tried to keep the sniffles from getting loud, but each time the memory of that battle came back to her, burning vivid into the back of her eyes like it was happening all over again, the shaking and terrible grief would come rolling back again.

“I-I’m sorry,” Tuuri said in shame. 

Lalli waved a hand. “It’s time to get up anyway.”

_That’s right_ , Tuuri told herself. His next round of scouting was soon. Though they were shorter what with the team moving at a slower pace, Lalli was needed to ensure the vicinity remained safe. 

“I…I asked him. He agreed,” Tuuri said and glanced away as Lalli shrugged out of his bedclothes. 

“Oh?” Lalli said. “You can see her now?” 

Tuuri nodded. “He thinks she doesn’t pose a threat to my own health anymore, and I said I wanted to help with cleaning her wounds. The truth is I just want to be close to her…” 

She did not feel Lalli approach until when he suddenly swept down and wrapped his spindly arms around her. It was rare for him to show this level of contact, but he must have known she needed it, and it was comforting, especially in the absence of another pair of arms which Tuuri had grown used to far too painfully fast. 

Tuuri covered Lalli’s hand with her own. “Thank you,” she said. 

She walked with Lalli to the tank’s door, seeing him off before turning to where Mikkel had kept Sigrun stationed. Even with the minimal medical supplies the Nordic Council could spare for the crew, it was enough for Mikkel to turn a section of the tank into a makeshift infirmary ward, enough to house one injured patient. In this case, the radio room was chosen for the task, as Mikkel played both doctor and corresponder with the expedition organizers in Sweden. 

Her knock came softly, not wishing to disturb Sigrun if she was sleeping or trigger a headache. After a few moments, Mikkel answered with the sound of the metal door clicking open, and Tuuri’s first shift as assistant medic commenced. 

Sigrun rested all bandaged up, sedated as it would be for the best according to Mikkel, and her injuries so great that the first time she saw her, Tuuri nearly burst out of the tank with a fresh wave of tears. But she held herself together, telling herself that had it been her, Sigrun would not have so much as squirmed at Tuuri’s injuries. With Mikkel’s guidance she learned how to properly wash and redress wounds, taking care not to accidentally reopen any, and especially not to cause risk of infection. It was a labor that took the greatest care, and with such limited provisions they had to get creative and ration what they could use. A labor of love and science. Utmost love. 

When they were done, Tuuri waited for Mikkel to turn his back, then she leaned close into Sigrun and kissed her cheek. 

With each session, things got easier, a routine. A chance for Tuuri’s mind to just turn off, go on auto-pilot, so she may focus on other things instead, like studying how pale Sigrun appeared on days when she wasn’t doing too well (and how pink her cheeks were on days when her health was exceptionally well), check on her breathing, think back to the way things were, remember the kisses that warmed her on the colder nights out in the Silent World. Happier days in the dark that made it all worthwhile—had that era passed? The last was something Tuuri did not wish to dwell on. 

Sigrun seldom ever awoke to speak with them, and if she had, it was only to mumble some reply to Mikkel’s ear regarding her condition. And so it came as a surprise to Tuuri one afternoon when Sigrun did speak directly to her. 

Mikkel and Emil had went out in search of books and other supplies on their own, under the whispered commands of their leader; by then Mikkel trusted Tuuri enough to remain with Sigrun. If she needed anything, Lalli and Reynir remained behind and could help her, but Tuuri was fine as she were. Being alone with Sigrun, with a book to read and to periodically check on her breathing, was all she needed. 

It was while she was applying the final bandage—a tiny piece of bandage, as not to run out—after redressing a wound, that Sigrun gave a sudden chuckle and said softly, “ _To’oborni._ ” 

Thinking Sigrun must have been talking in her sleep, Tuuri glanced up. She was surprised to see Sigrun’s eyes open, focused on her, and wearing a smile on her face. “ _To’oborni._ ” 

Tuuri chuckled. “Pardon?” 

“You bury me.” 

The color instantly drained from Tuuri’s face. “What? Don’t say that! Oh, no, are you infected? Did I make things worse?” 

Sigrun laughed, though the extent of it was limited given the wave of pain that shot through her body. 

“No, no— _To’oborni._ It means ‘I love you so much I wish you will one day outlive me so you would be the one to bury me.’ One of the viking families had ancestors who said that to one another all the time.” 

“Oh…” Relieved, Tuuri placed a hand on her heart, but it still hammered with that scare. “Oh…that’s pretty morbid.” 

“It’s how I feel,” Sigrun said with a smirk. “Better it was me than you that day, huh? Where would you have been?” 

“I…don’t even want to think about that,” Tuuri confessed with a tiny squeak. 

“Me neither,” Sigrun said. The days spent like this had taken its toll on her, but she was grinning up at Tuuri. “Come here.” 

“You’re not upset at me?” 

“Why would I be?” Sigrun said. “I did what I love most: fighting to protect who I care for. And this battle is going to give me some awesome battle scars!” 

“I suppose they will!” Tuuri giggled and leaned in to accept Sigrun’s lips for a kiss. And there it was: with the first contact came the burst of warmth, and the familiar longing, the sweet, cherished memories, both joyous and poignant, and painful, and she kissed her again, longer, deeper, in silent promise to never part from her company, each kiss a vow, a new chapter in their years ahead. 

If Mikkel happened to come in and find his assistant medic and patient in such position, the assistant with her non-sterile lips all over his exhausted patient, and her hands threading through Sigrun’s hair, massaging her scalp—she could give an excuse it was because Sigrun complained it was throbbing from the injury—then Tuuri did not have a single care in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Arabic phrase “you bury me” used to mean “I love you so much I would rather you outlive me so I may never lose you.” Often used in an upbeat way, and it’s more commonly used in Syrian dialects than my own people’s dialect. (How did Sigrun come across it? There may have been a Syrian Arabic-speaker amongst all those Vikings. :) )


End file.
